


Bottom of the Hourglass

by JustADreamForUs



Series: This is the Ugly Truth (when all you've seen is beauty) [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Body Worship, Bottom Lance (Voltron), Chubby Lance, Dirty Talk, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Angst, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Love Confessions, M/M, Mental Instability, Pining Lance (Voltron), Post-Canon, Praise Kink, Smut, Top Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 01:23:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10979445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustADreamForUs/pseuds/JustADreamForUs
Summary: His insecurities bite at his heels, nipping and forever drawing blood. But Lance fights it everyday, fights it every way he knows how because he refuses to bend to it. He doesn't know when it started, but only knows he can't stop. And that he's breaking apart even as he tries to tape everything together.But Keith, Keith is perfection.And Keith always knew when he was drowning.So for once Lance finds his head breaking through the surface, and he takes in a deep gulp of well deserved fresh air.





	Bottom of the Hourglass

**Author's Note:**

> ATTENTION: Trigger warning for people suffering from mental illness.
> 
> Lance's reactions and thoughts may hit a little too close to home for some of you so please be careful. On the bright side, Keith kicks some sense into Lance's head and protects him from his own fears. Also, there's smut (I don't think it was very well written but you tell me) so yay! Enjoy my friends!~~
> 
> PS: Comments please~ They power up my lions ;)

** Bottom of the Hourglass **

 

He had never thought far ahead into what was wrong with him. And Lance blamed it on how strong he was as a person itself. It was in his personality, ingrained to his very core and soul to be a pillar of strength. That he was independent, capable, _until he wasn’t_. The word ‘fine’, ‘good’ rolled from his lips like the sweetest nectar from the wild flowers of his home country. He didn’t know when the words that flew from his mouth turned into lies. Was it a soft slow beckoning change, like the soft rustle when a page of a book is turned? Or was it similar to that of ripping off a band aid, quick and urgent as thought life had decided to walk right up the path of success Lance had tried so very hard to build.

 

And built he had, for Lance knew he was not the brightest student in his grade. He was not a natural born genius like Hunk, and had no affinity with research and data analysis like Pidge. While others were treading water in a calm pool, Lance was kicking furiously against a whirlpool just trying to stay afloat. It didn’t make sense to feel terrible, Lance knew that. Some people were born with an extra sprinkle of something, and Lance just didn’t have the boost in his intellectual capacity. He could make do with, he knew that, he _believed_ that. For every test that a student prepped the day before, Lance did it a week in advance to achieve the same results. A hundred percent effort only got him an average pass but he could make do, could put in triple the effort to make it an A. It wasn’t a lost cause.

 

But some days, _some days_ Lance couldn’t bring himself to be optimistic. Some days, the voices crept up on him and ate through his armour and defences. And Lance knew, _knew_ that the voices were wrong. That he was lucky, born tall, handsome, with good social interactions skills people could envy. He was _lucky_ , so why did he feel like an absoloute failure all the time? That when he stood in front of the mirror, all he could see were the lovehandles found at his hip bones, grasp at the slight curve of his stomache, look at the sallow face tinged with scars from puberty before slamming the bathroom door shut.

 

He works through it of course, because it’s Lance. He _loves_ his body; he loves and _understands_ that people come in different shapes and sizes. That everyone is beautiful no matter their size. But that still doesn’t stop him from feeling too large in his own skin as he walks to school, like his size screeches at the world to stare, feeling clumsy and enormous in his own clothes that fit snugly to his frame. However, it doesn’t stop there, building and growing in himself as the feeling, like he’s out of place grows, and the voices whisper _you’re too ugly, too fat, too big, scars and stretchmarks, you’ve put on weight, clumsy_. It drives his throat to close, the panic and disgust almost clamping down on his own self when he remembers to _stop_.

 

“Hey Hunk! Just the man I’m hoping to see. And look who dragged in the trash! All nighter again Pidge?” He forces the words out as he cocks his hip, eyes shining as he fights the need to hide. He can do this, he is loved, his friends have his back.

 

“Tough day Lance.”

 

“Fuck off damn it.”

 

And even though Hunk shoots him a warm albeit exhausted smile, and Pidge gives him a nudge in the shoulder, Lance feels it. Feels the doubt start creeping up on him because he _has_ heard what people say about him. _Too loud, overly enthusiastic, flirt, weird, dramatic, lame_ and for a moment he forgets to breathe. He forgets to let oxygen fill his lungs because the loneliness is too much to bear; how much do they know, how much do they understand, how much do they accept him, support him, do they, can they, _and_ _why does he feel like he’s better off silent_. Like he accidentally just placed a foot in his mouth, stumbled over words, awkward and out of place just like his opinions and thoughts. It makes him seal his lips, offering a wane smile and brushing away concerns as he innocently chalks it up to being tired and needing a break from socialising.

 

The paper he gets back from his test is the next thing that send his gut clenching and chest painfully contracting. It’s barely a pass and he knows that this grade for History is not going to get him anywhere even though he is trying his best. The only plus side is the encouraging smile from his teacher and the distracting hum of the students. It gets easier to tune out the constant barrage of vile insults that spew from his own voice in his mind. That he’s _stupid, useless, pathetic, lazy_ , _undeserving to be in the garrison as Iverson says,_ Lance can ignore, let it fade as he presses his pen to the paper, laser focus placed on the swoop of his letters and bullet dots of information.

 

It’s tiring, the constant feeling of anxiety and insecurity that bites at his heels. But Lance knows he’s a strong boy, and he _can_ take care of himself. He can’t call down his Ma and let her worry about him, about money, his studies, his _feelings_ of all things. So Lance pushes himself even harder because he knows he can do better. Be better. It forces him to do more facial regimes, altering his diets to get rid of sugar because sugar causes acne, fried food too, working out on his legs to tone up, to shape up, to be _healthy_ (the word skinny flies by his head because Lance is proud of his body, loves it, just that it can be _better_ , leaner, more toned, so what he’s doing is good, he’s taking care of himself like a proper adult now). Lance talks lesser, forces himself to calm down, not scream when his mail from his hometown comes, not interrupt when people are talking, to nod his head and say yes because saying yes makes people happy (even if it’s boring and causes him problems because Lance is listening, and that’s what he needs to do to be a nice, better person). He stays up till the middle of night, four in the morning to complete his projects, assignments, practising worksheets after worksheets (which is a good thing, because practise makes perfect and he’s being disciplined and he’s becoming better).

 

_Right…?_

 

The equation doesn’t work out the way it should and Lance starts floundering. The lovehandles are still there, his face still has scars and pores that are way too obvious. He’s still too loud, too boisterous, the eye rolls and annoyed glares swallow him whole. His grades don’t rise, not even an inch, and he’s still swimming in the lowest results even as the exams loom. It’s not getting better, he’s not becoming better, _why are you still so useless, so pathetic, no one likes you, shut your mouth, lazy with no dedication, failure of a pilot,_ and Lance _knows_ he needs to be better. So he pours in more effort, he starts running and eating one meal a day, starts exfoliating every week. He starts to shrink in on himself, stay silent, not speak. He goes to the library, goes for consultations and pours himself into his work because he has to, he will, he _should_ work hard; work hard and make it happen.

 

Except it isn’t working. Nothing is going right and Lance is tired, exhausted, spread too thin and hungry for a drop of success. For something to go _right_ , to show that his efforts are rewarded. But the cherry on top of the cake comes in the form of Shiro dragging Keith back to the garisson, a proud smirk on his face because _what did I tell you, I could definitely persuade him to come back_. And oh, Lance feels sick, disgusted with himself. Because Keith is a paladin, a friend, a family member (and always had been something more; not that he would ever say so). Keith is someone Lance explicitly trusted, _trusts_ to have his back. They’ve fought wars together, they’ve saved each other from losing a limb, dying on the field. And it sickens him, makes his stomache roil when the hate roils up in a low simmering heat. When all he wants to do is to snarl and tell him _you don’t belong here, get out of this place, fuck off I hate you_ and all Lance can manage to do is to type out a ‘congratulations’ on his phone before collapsing on his bed. The foreboding sense of failure tastes of salt and deafening anxiety, Lance finally realising on that day.

 

The crushing blow comes in fighter pilot class. Lance knows by now that Iverson loves to pick on him, even if he did come back as a hero and a paladin, and it seemed even more so _because_ of it. He fails the simulation terribly, and as he steps out in his orange uniform the flat silence and glowering stare from Iverson and the class is enough to make his fragile state of mind cry out in panic. But still Lance plows on, too caught up in the flow of life and knowing he can’t, he can’t back out of this-

 

“Go off to space and you think you can get off slacking, that you’re all so high and mighty now huh? Let me tell you what they should do, they should have allowed the Lions to choose another Paladin! If you can’t even manage to balance such simple things, a graded simulation, it’s a wonder how the blue lion is still yours! Maybe a word with the mechanic who built the darn thing-”

 

 _Choose another Paladin. Choose another Paladin. Choose another Paladin_. The words reverberate in Lance’s head and he clenches his fists and white iron hot anger jolts through his veins. Couldn’t they see that he was trying? What did Iverson know of what he went through, what did anyone know of what he was suffering from, what did they know of his life? That he spent so much time of the weighing scale with measuring tapes coiled around his limbs, silence and music deafening his ears and sealing his lips shut, almost fainting in exhaustion when he’s running on barely four hours of sleep a day! He knows, Lance thinks, that he doesn’t deserve anything, that he should be better, but still. Still, biting his lip as he tries his hardest to not let the tears fall even as they fill up his eyes, pools in them and all he wants is to collapse on the floor because _how dare you_.

 

“ _What the fuck did you just say?_ ” And this time Lance’s head snaps up at that voice. Because he knows that voice, has heard it smooth and gentle, husky and annoyed, but never like this, a low growl, a sharp tipped snarl laced at the ends. When their eyes meet, Lance is all of a sudden blown away by the violet blue hues, the way Keith’s eyes light up with a tinted shade of gold, the way his lips are stretched into a ferocious blood thirsty smirk, smoky with blood lust. The garrison uniform is orange but it isn’t what gives Keith a humming like glow, as if any moment his mullet would start floating. It’s the rumbling displeased grumble starting from his chest that spreads through the air, molten purple crawling up his neck as he tilts his head, staring unblinkingly at Iverson like a hunter stalking its prey. He pushes himself off from where he has been leaning against the wall and crowds right up to Iverson, Lance’s shocked blue eyes following the red paladin because _what the quiznak are you doing Keith, you’ll get expelled Keith, Keith…_

 

“You don’t know shit about how the Lions operate so don’t act like you have full rights to decide who’s good enough to pilot them.” Keith snaps, grabbing the collar of Iverson’s jacket, eyes blazing, “Blue chose Lance because she saw something great in him, and you can walk up to the fucking Lions right now and even with all your experience you won’t ever get to sit in the fucking cockpit of one. You know nothing about what Lance has been up to, and you never fucking cared to find out in the first place so it gives you no fucking right to verbally attack him like that.” Keith’s nostrils flare, and Lance eyes are wide as the shorter boy finally releases his hold on Iverson’s jacket, head held high while walking over, slipping his arm round Lance _but wait since when did Lance lose the feeling of his legs and oh okay now they’re walking out of the room only to pause but why?_

 

“Also, I suggest you reflect on how you treat your students,” Keith lividly spits the word at Iverson, eyes flaring gold, “Because I wouldn’t want to be you if a recording of what you said ever makes it out of Pidge’s hands and into the board of directors.” And just like that, they’re out of the hallway. Sunlight pouring in _and wait, wait did Keith just-!!_

 

“Did you just threaten Iverson?!” Lance’s voice comes out squeaky and horrified as he tilts his head to look at Keith, chest squeezing tight with discomfort even as warmth spreads into his back through the cool uniform, Keith’s arm and hand a burning presence pressed against him. He feels himself do a double take as he properly looks at Keith, and suddenly his chest is squeezing tight for a different reason.

 

After the defeat of Zarkon, the paladins had been sent back to earth and they all parted ways. Keith wanted to search for his parents, while Shiro had to undergo counselling for his PTSD, leaving the remaining three paladins to return to the garrison. By the time Shiro published his book and started teaching at the garrison, it had already been close to ten months since they last saw each other. It took a month of constant pleading before Keith agreed to return to the garrison, and just like that a week had passed. A week since Keith _huh_ but why didn’t he see-

 

“Would you mind telling me why you’ve been avoiding me for the past week instead?” Keith mutters, side eyeing Lance before pointedly looking away as they hobble towards their dormitories. But Lance notices, _of course he notices_ , and he swallows as Keith’s fingers tighten their grip on his back, digging in before relaxing their hold on him.

 

The eleven months had done Keith good. His skin was still pale, but it had a healthy luminous glow to it and he had grown into his broad shoulders. The orange garrison uniform fitted his form perfectly, drawing tight at Keith’s chest before tapering down his waist and hips, the pants hugging at his thick thighs and calves. His dark hair was still just as wild as Lance remembered, with the same shaggy cut, eyes soft violet and framed by ebony lashes, lips red and raw _because that boy never learnt what chapstick was_ and by the gods Lance had missed him so much. Missed him, and never hated himself more than ever.

 

As Keith closes the door of his and Hunk’s room, Lance tries to fight the waves of emotions crashing into him, fondness, exasperation, affection, envy, anger, sadness, despair, trying to hold back his needs, but as always it’s Keith that finds him when he’s at his breaking point. Air whistling out through his teeth, Lance whirls around just as Keith turns to face him, and under the gaze of heavy liquid mercury gold eyes Lance feels his façade crumble. Folding his jacket and putting it down, he stops, and he crushes Keith into a hug.

 

“Wha-”

 

“I missed you so _fucking_ much.” Lance whispers, breath blowing over Keith’s right ear as he buries his face in strong sturdy shoulders. He feels Keith stiffen momentarily, back rim rod straight before relaxing and his hug is returned with brute force, Keith’s hands gripping his back, fingers digging into his flesh. Keith smells the same, of the shower, deodorant and the crisp scent of recent laundry. The warmth heats Lance up from inside as he’s held, encased and for once he feels small, not big and clumsy. He feels treasured, _protected_. It makes him quiver from need, tears spilling onto Keith’s shoulder even as he keeps his breathing slow and easy. Seconds pass before he feels a hand, Keith’s hand hesitatingly rest against his nape. Making a noise of assent, Lance almost chokes in the relief he feels as warm fingers rake through his hair, scraping over his scalp, the motion repetitive. And there they stood, Lance shaking against Keith, breath coming out in timid puffs while Keith remains silent, a rock in the middle of raging seas.

 

“Lance… I can taste salt in the air.” Keith whispers after a while and Lance let’s out a derisive laugh.

 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about mullet.” Lance chokes out, even though both Keith and him are very well aware of the way he’s silently sobbing into his shoulder. The way his fingers are hooked on Keith like he’s a lifeline. Keith falls quiet, his hand never ceasing in that caring motion before he speaks again, voice gentle and low.

 

“Let’s sit on your bed.”

 

Keith disentangles himself and Lance feels a flare of panic erupt, volcanic in nature, hot rush of fear sloshing inside, raking over his skin like lava spilling over. Perhaps it’s the years of knowing Lance, because three years is a long time, that Keith can read the fear and anxiety Lance feels the minute he let goes. Without hesitation, Keith’s hand grasps on tight to Lance’s and he tugs him forward until the latter is seated haphazardly on the bed, and Keith wraps him up in a firm hold, tugging the blanket up to Lance’s chest. Lance feels instantly better, the cold flush of air meeting his body now replaced with the growing warmth of Keith’s own body heat, thighs pressed against his sides, his head nestled under Keith’s chin and listening to his heart beat.

 

“Better?” Keith asks, voice a low rasp.

 

“Yeah.” Lance swallows, closing his eyes as he draws his legs up to curl himself into a smaller shape, making sure that Keith’s thighs and legs cage him properly. The silence is comforting, as Lance listens to the steady thump of Keith’s heart, soaking up the warmth, the affection, the _safety_.

 

“Lance?”

 

“Hmm..?”

 

“What’s going on?” Keith whispers, and Lance stills as he feels the other boy’s lips brush over his head, Keith’s hands rubbing up and down his arms.

 

“I…” _I feel weak, terrible, ugly, stupid. And I’m a terrible friend because I hated you for reminding me that I’m a failure but it isn’t your fault because you’re perfect; you’ve always been perfect and wonderful and it’s my fault I tried to be strong but I’m not, I’m not and I don’t know how to fix me because what is wrong with me Keith?_

 

“Shh… Breathe.” Keith murmurs and Lance finally notices that his lungs are burning for oxygen as he takes in a shuddering breath, gasping out a soft panicked sob. It’s this sob that makes Keith’s gut churn, and a low rumbling croon makes its way out of his chest as he cradles Lance, pressing his nose against Lance’s hair to inhale the scent of lemon, salt and wind. The silence drags on for a little while more, punctuated by soft croons before Lance finally speaks, voice low.

 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

 

“What do you mean?” Keith whispers, pulling Lance back so they can see each other face to face. Lance almost wants to back pedal, laugh his way through another situation out of shame when he sees the full blown amber eyes that Keith is sporting.

 

“Why…why are your eyes golden? I thought they…”

 

“They only turn gold when I’m feeling,” Keith paused, clearing his throat, “when I’m in a state of heightened emotions.” His eyes dart down before the flicker up to meet Lance’s own sapphire like eyes, a deep russian blue. Lance inhales at that, body going lax because _oh, Keith cares_.

 

He had forgotten what it felt like to be loved.

 

“Why?” Keith’s voice shook and it’s only then that Lance realises he spoke out loud. For a moment Lance considers lying until he feels Keith tighten his hold, almost crushing Lance before he repeats the question, voice breaking unevenly, “Why?”.

 

“Because I’ve spent so much time hating myself.” Lance responds in a small voice, fingers twisting the blanket nervously as he shies away from Keith’s burning gaze. The silence that follows makes Lance hold his breath because _I’ve never told anyone this and I know Keith won’t laugh at me but I don’t know what to do or what he would say and I don’t want to lose him or him to go and I-_

 

“Tell me the reasons why you hate yourself.” Keith grinds out, a low rumble of displeasure following his sentence. Lance purses his lips, and if he was more like his usual self he would have snapped at Keith for being an insensitive jackass to ask him to list his own flaws. But Lance couldn’t do it. Not when he believed in those very mistakes he found in himself.

 

“I’m fat.” Lance begins, chin wobbling as he uses his forefinger and thumb to straighten the edge of the blanket, looking anywhere but at Keith, “I have lovehandles on my h-hips and s-scars on my face. I’m too dramatic and l-loud. I’m stupid and l-lazy. I’m a terrible pilot who lacks dedication and I don’t d-deserve B-Blue-”

 

“Are you _fucking_ kidding me.” Keith growls and Lance flinches, only to freeze as Keith turns him over, sliding his muscular leg across Lance’s hip, pulling him flush against his body. Lance is speechless, a blush crawling up his neck as Keith’s right arm curves around his waist, hand resting snugly against his shoulder blades, their foreheads almost touching. He’s so stunned by their sudden change in positions that he doesn’t even notice Keith’s hand which creeps under his shirt.

 

“Lance, do you even _see_ your own body? You’re _fucking gorgeous_. Tan skin, long limbs and soft curves...” Lance gives out a yelp as Keith squeezes his tummy, the heavy weight of Keith’s thigh on his hip reminding Lance of the soft jiggling flesh there, disgust immediately swelling up in him.

 

“D-Don’t touch it like that! It’s, it’s-”

 

“It’s what?” Keith hisses, eyes narrowing, a flinty look to them, “It’s soft and smooth that’s what.” Lance squeaks as he feels Keith’s fingers once again twist his fleshy stomache, finger pads digging into Lance’s skin, squishing his body. For once, Lance finds himself horrifyingly embarrassed, and yet the blue paladin can’t fight the tiny grin spreading across his face as he looked away, cheeks flushing pink.

 

“And your face. Who doesn’t have scars? Shiro has a scar right across the bridge of his nose! Out of all of us no one takes better care of their face then you do.” Keith continues incredulously, nostrils flaring as his temper spiked, “You’re dramatic and loud but that’s what always breaks the tension between people and gets things done. You’re _far_ from stupid because if you _were_ stupid you would have died a long time ago while fighting a fucking war! You are _not_ lazy but the most hardworking person ever when it comes to a goal you have such as _knitting sweaters for the mice_ who don’t really need them you know. But you still do it cause you’re a _fucking brilliant_ person who gives me a run for my money when you fly.” Keith stopped, breathing harshly, eyes glinting as he looks down at Lance who is utterly silent, mouth agape.

 

“You _deserve_ Blue. You _are_ a Paladin of Voltron. You-” Keith gave out a huff, muttering a ‘nevermind’ before his eyes flashed back up to meet Lance’s own surprised gaze, “Don’t _ever_ talk about yourself like that again you hear me?”

 

Lance swallowed, hit with a huge overwhelming rush of emotions at the words that fell from Keith’s lips. The acknowledgement, the support, that in itself was already a soothing balm on his frenzied torn soul. But it was something else that made the insecurities and Lance’s anxiety ebb way. It was the protective spark in Keith’s eyes, the intimate way the other cradled him. When he almost shouted the words back in agony to prove Lance wrong, furious, amber eyes shining all the brighter with some emotion that Lance couldn’t quite accurately pin point. Not for sure anyway. Their current position, Lance’s chest almost pressed against Keith’s the heavy weight on his hip and the soft caress between his shoulder blades; there was so much more written in this one moment.

 

“Keith…” Lance cleared his throat, the tips of his ears turning red as he licks his lips, blue eyes darting up to meet Keith’s amber gaze before falling back down, his voice becoming smaller, “What were you going to say?”

 

“What do you mean?” Keith asked bluntly, watching as the other boy pursed his lips, ducking his head as he rubbed his thumb against the fraying corner of the blanket.

 

“You were saying I deserve Blue and that I’m a Paladin of Voltron. You were going to say something else but you said ‘nevermind’…” Lance sucked in a breath, worrying his bottom lip as he trailed off, waiting for Keith to speak.

 

There’s a pause before Keith chuffs out a laugh and Lance scowls, narrowing his eyes and ready to glower at the other when he sees how Keith is looking at him. Gentle and affectionate, fondness radiating from that liquid gold gaze. How could Lance not see how beautiful he was, Keith had no clue. His caramel skin had a glowing hue, and his legs, those long gorgeous model legs could kill a man. While he had put on some weight since they stopped their fighting, Keith felt it only made Lance even more attractive, the soft flesh an addictive surprise. Not to mention his sharp jawlines, pouty lips and those iridescent eyes. Keith couldn’t help himself as he made his way closer to the gorgeous boy. Shocked, Lance stilled as Keith’s right hand clasped his chin, the red paladin leaning forward until their lips are barely inches away from each other.

 

“I was going to say,” Keith breathed out, wetting his lips, mouth feeling dry, “You’re _mine_.”

 

Lance only had a split second to register what Keith said, his eyes widening before the red paladin pressed his lips against his own. The feeling of soft chapped lips (because that idiot _still_ doesn’t use chapstick) sliding chastely against his lit a firework in Lance. Letting out a soft whimper, Lance tilted his head, kissing Keith back eagerly as he slid his hand backwards, tugging greedily at Keith’s mullet. Feeling that response, Keith deepened the kiss, his hands tightening their hold on the delighted boy, running his tongue gently against the seam, gently seeking entrance into his cavern. The innocent kiss soon became a mess, the two battling for dominance with Lance quickly giving in, a soft hum escaping him as Keith’s tongue raked over his teeth, nipping his bottom lip and staking claim.

 

“K-Keith... How, how long…?”

 

“I noticed you since you said we made a good team.” Keith grumbled as he pulled away, giving Lance some time to cool down as the latter looked like he was about to burst from embarrassment any moment. At those words, Lance only turned a darker shade of pink, now resembling an apple as he whimpered softly, burying his face in Keith’s chest.

 

“I’m sorry for being so fucked up that I avoided you for a week.” Lance mumbled into the shirt and Keith snorted.

 

“If you’re fucked up I must be even worse for falling in love with you.” Keith muttered, running his hand affectionately through Lance’s brown curls before pausing.

 

“Why _did_ you avoid me anyway?”

 

At his question, Lance felt himself burn red, almost about to gainsay his reason only to stop just in time. There was an undercurrent of hurt, a soft lilt to Keith’s voice that bordered on curiosity but also pain. The pain, as if Lance’s avoidance had caused more than a mere jolt to Keith’s daily routine. Biting his lip, Lance buried his face even further into Keith’s shirt, breathing in his scent, hoping it would calm him down such that he could properly marshal his thoughts into a coherent paragraph. Below him, Keith’s chest rose and fell evenly, and a low rumbling croon began to sing out as the half galra began to stroke Lance’s head.

 

“I know… I know it’s deleterious-”

 

“Look at you using big words.” Keith’s husky voice teased and Lance narrowed his blue eyes, pursing his lips as he glowered affectionately at the other boy. Shrugging, Keith mimed zipping his lips, golden eyes sparkling with hidden warmth that made a small smile pull at the corner of Lance’s own mouth.

 

“I know it’s _harmful_ ,” Lance nudged Keith whose expression turned sombre as Lance’s own voice tapered out into a soft mild tone, “to think of all these negative thoughts. And it’s because of the fact I _know_ , that it makes things so much worse. It’s as if I can’t control my own thoughts and I start thinking mean things about other people.”

 

“… You mean me.” There’s no question in the way Keith phrases it and Lance flinches as he feels the other boy stiffen beside him, stony silence descending upon them. Keith says it in a matter of fact manner and Lance can tell his mouth is opening and closing, but no words come out to refute Keith’s statement. His mouth feels dry, throat parched and suddenly Lance isn’t quite sure what to say. It takes Keith trying to pull away from him to panic, the anxiety that had previously abated to a soft tingling sensation bursting forward to the surface in full force.

 

“No, Keith, don’t go!”

 

“Lance-”

 

“Please, don’t, don’t,” Lance is babbling, thoughts becoming incoherent as he curls himself closer to Keith, yanking at his shirt (since when had he lost his jacket?), voice breaking brokenly. His knuckles turn white as he grips on, hanging for dear life as he scrambles into Keith’s personal space, a soft whimper escaping him in his frenzy. A low snarl from Keith has him crying out even more because _no no please don’t go I need you I want you here I’m so stupid why isn’t my voice working That wasn’t what I meant-_

 

“Lance!” The growl erupts from Keith’s lips and the next thing he knows is that he’s swathed in blankets, jackets and strong arms, smelling intimately of Keith. The _next_ thing he realises is that he’s practically curled into Keith’s lap, the other boy somehow miraculously caging him. A quiet hum starts out from Keith’s chest again, the crooning growing in decibel as Keith leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Lance’s. Shuddering, Lance feels himself, muscles previously pulled taut and body thrumming with adrenaline relax as Keith nuzzles him, pressing his own nose to Lance’s pulse point before dipping to his shoulder, and then up into his hair.

 

“Better?” Keith rumbled softly, and Lance gave a small nod, even as his fingers twisted even more tightly into the black material of Keith’s shirt. That tiny action doesn’t escape Keith’s notice, and his right hand snakes between them to gently unhook Lance’s fingers, running a thumb over Lance’s hands, stroking in soothing circles.

 

“I won’t leave. I just wanted to shift my position a little. I’m sorry for giving you a negative impression.” Keith murmurs after a while and Lance breathes out through his nose, air whistling as he tries to blink back the tears that still spill from his eyes.

 

“I didn’t, you mean a lot to me. _A lot_. And that’s why I felt terrible, being so jealous of you. And I felt so inadequate because you were, always have been, perfect. It felt like being in the garrison was the only thing that made me good enough to still be on par with you because you’re such a good pilot and then you coming back only to see me not make progress and I-”

 

The words _and maybe then I’ll still have a chance with you_ went unsaid in the entire monologue Lance poured out.

 

“Oh quiznak.” Keith breathed out, shushing Lance as a new sob bubbled up from the other boy who rubbed his eyes furiously, hating how he had worked himself up into hysterics. Keith couldn’t take the way Lance looked so defeated, small and broken in his arms. And he _hated_ how he hadn’t even noticed in all those months that Lance was slowly falling apart without him. Lance had been so supportive, so encouraging of Keith when he had stated that he planned to plot out his lineage. Caught up in the whirlwind of things, Keith had completely neglected Lance and left him hanging; quite _literally_ in whatever their relationship was. Internally cursing, Keith could only regret that he hadn’t heeded Kolivan’s advice.

 

“Lance… There’s something I haven’t told you.”

 

“Yeah?” Lance gave him a watery smile, eyes still brimming with new tears, “You’re the best pilot of our generation, half alien and you ride an extra-terrestrial lion. I don’t think anything can surprise me now.”

 

 _Well, this is where I’m going to prove you wrong_ , Keith thought, flushing slightly. The slight flush made Lance sit up straighter however, for instead of being red it was a light pastel purple. It crawled up the side of Keith’s slim neck, dotting and twirling patterns across his smooth pale skin. Opening his mouth to make a comment on it, Lance felt himself taken aback as Keith’s eyes met his, the colour a luminescent yellow with a dark slit ride in the middle, an exact replica of a cat’s own pair of eyes. It was also a huge definite sign that Keith was feeling _emotional_ , for it meant he was losing his iron fist control over his form.

 

“Galras mate for life. That’s what I should have told you except that it just slipped my mind and because you know I’m not good at… _This_. I was so caught up in my instincts and being half human that I didn’t even realise that I was already courting you. Lance, I-” Keith swallowed, the words just spilling out from his lips like a giant word vomit held in for far too long.

 

“Wait, wait. Hold your horses space partner. Courting me? _Mate for life?_ ” Lance squeaked out, eyes wide and pupils blown in disbelief.

 

“Everything. I was marking you as an equal because that’s how Galras choose their prospective mates. They, no, _I_ tried to impress you.” Keith corrected himself, clearing his throat, “I was risky with my flying patterns. Angrier in fights that had you in danger. I tried to prove myself to you because all you did was put me down and I wanted to earn your attention. I wanted all of it, wanted your, your praise?” Keith gave a soft frustrated groan which earned him a soft pat on the head for his trouble.

 

“I wanted you to see me as an equal. I thought you were a brilliant person. Smart, funny, better at socialising, careful and sensitive and I wanted, wanted _so much_ to be on the receiving end of it. I thought it was just because you were my first rival,” Keith breathed out, and Lance gave out a snort, making Keith’s lips quirk into a momentary smile, “But as we grew closer it just shifted. _We_ changed, or what our relationship was supposed to be changed.” Lance nodded, and Keith had to fight back the urge to croon as Lance shyly ducked his head, lacing their fingers together.

 

“And we just, we fell into it so easily I mean Pidge still has blackmail videos of us already ‘dating’ as she puts it. I never thought much of it since we were too busy _saving_ the universe,” Lance gives a soft laugh at that and Keith grinned, “So I just thought you knew.”

 

“Knew?” Lance blinked, tilting his head in confusion and Keith knew the moment his face flared completely purple as Lance gaped at him, mouth forming a small ‘o’ in surprise.

 

“Knew… That…” Keith could feel his face burn as he looked down at their intertwined hands, “You’re it for me Lance.” Keith mumbled, bringing up the hand to kiss the brown knuckles, scars littering them after numerous fights, “I choose _you_.”

 

At his words, Lance bolted upright. He didn’t run, but he sat in Keith’s lap, back straight and eyes gazing into Keith’s own orbs with an expression of pure wonder. It was a look of complete shock, brown lashes fluttering against tan skin, lips parting softly in a state of surprise. It took several seconds before Lance shifted again and spoke, voice quiet in the silent room.

 

“You choose me… As your mate?”

 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. _Yes_.” Keith purred, crooning out the word as he kissed all five points on Lance’s right hand’s knuckles before nipping gently at Lance’s chin, allowing his instincts to take over a little.

 

“I choose to be with you. To protect you, to hold you, to love you, to care for you, to be _everything_ you need. You don’t have to fight so hard to get my attention or to keep me Lance.” Keith breathed, mouth brushing the curve of Lance’s right ear as he crooned, his breath hot against Lance’s ear, “I have always been, and always will be, _yours_.”

 

“So that means you were going to come back. To me. That what we,” Lance swallowed, voice faltering as he looked up through his lashes, “in the castle…”

 

“When I took you in my room?” Keith growled possessively as Lance gave out a soft whine of embarrassment, his whole body overheating as Keith tugged Lance forward frowning.

 

“Wait, did you think it was just a one time- Oh my god you thought it was just a… One day, night-”

 

“How was I supposed to know?” Lance snapped, cheeks colouring as he scowled, “You didn’t touch me at all after that night! Plus we were drinking that weird alien space juice in celebration after we defeated Zarkon and then you said you wanted to find out about your lineage-”

 

“Lance,” Keith hissed incredulously, “I _bit_ you.” Keith’s nostrils flared and Lance gave out a squeak as he tugged open Lance’s legs, a look of utter disbelief written all over his face, “I left _hickies_ on your _inner thighs_ , how much more obvious of a claim can you even-”

 

“W-Well people have kinks like that all the time! And I thought maybe you just liked to bite…?” Lance trailed off weakly, hands pressed against Keith’s chest as the tips of his ears turned red and he looked down in embarrassment.

 

“Of all times that you _choose_ to be humble.” Keith groaned, “Is it that difficult to understand that I adore you, claimed you and would _always_ want you?”

 

The brunette scowled, shoulder hunching as he refused to look at Keith. But just as quickly, the boy suddenly jerked upright, eyes widening before they turned sly, and instantly Keith was on guard, wary of whatever idea Lance had just thought of. He knew that look, and that was a look that prophesised bad ideas and a hell lot of trouble.

 

“Keith… Can we re-live that night?” Lance whispered breathlessly, rolling over and straddling the caught off guard red paladin. Keith’s eyes widened and he gaped before flushing red, eyes flashing under the fluorescent lights.

 

“Lance, you don’t have to-”

 

“I want to.” Lance mumbled, looking away before pausing, his demeanour suddenly growing shy, his voice catching, “U-Unless you don’t want to… That’s fine umm I know that I’ve put on weight since then so I’m not as attrac-”

 

“Don’t even _think_ about completing that self-depreciative sentence!” Keith all but snarled, jerking forward, eyes flaring as he flipped Lance over, manhandling the taller boy onto his back. Lance squealed, giving Keith an affronted look only to quail under the intense stare of the other boy.

 

“I’m going to savour you.” Keith murmured, a soft croon escaping his lips in his desire to have Lance. Well if he was already in for a penny, he might as well be in for a pound. The blue eyed boy was a sight lying against his own bed, hair fluffed out against pristine white sheets. It made Keith want to devour him, start slowly, giving Lance every drop of ecstasy possible until the boy was left as nothing but a wrecked mess. The way those gentle eyes had darkened to a dark indigo, the way Lance’s pulse thundered in the room, tan skin flashing as his shirt rode up, long limbs splayed over the bed was driving Keith wild. Lance’s pheromones didn’t help either, the air taking a turn for something sharp and spicy as Keith opened his mouth to scent the air. It was the taste of arousal, heavy on his tongue that made Keith groan out loud in desire and Lance flush.

 

“Shirt, pants. Off.” Keith murmured, and obediently Lance tugged off his shirt, revealing a smooth expanse of rippling lean muscle. The sight was obscured however, by splayed fingers and part of the shirt, leaving Keith with his head cocked as he caught sight of Lance pursing his lips, pausing from un-doing his pants.

 

“What is it?” Keith soothed, running a reassuring hand up Lance’s thigh.

 

“It, it looks different compared to back then when we…” Lance’s voice faltered and Keith wanted to smack his head against the concrete metal walls of the room. He had tried his hardest to explain to Lance as gently and as politely as he could that he adored Lance in this form, slightly chubbier on the hips, tummy and thighs. But the insecure boy still couldn’t get it, and while Keith knew it was a sign of deep emotional scarring, Keith could no longer hold back his instincts or his mental filter. After all, the Galra race was a warrior race, and so bedroom matters were anything but vanilla.

 

“ _Lance_ ,” Keith purred, and Lance felt himself freeze as he finally caught sight of the two fluffy appendages sitting atop Keith’s head. Sliding his gaze downwards, Lance felt himself whimper as Keith licked his lips, tongue running cruelly across the tip of one canine, now sharpened into fangs. His lover, boyfriend, was already giving into his instincts. And yet it still didn’t prepare Lance at all for the filthy words that dripped off Keith’s tongue.

 

“I _love_ that you’ve put on weight. _Love_ the little stretch marks that carve out across your skin that only I can see.” Keith breathed out, his ears flicking as he inched closer, hands sliding under Lance’s paralysed own, “It makes me wonder what you would be like on all fours taking my cock.”

 

 _Holy fuck_ Lance whimpered, eyes widening as Keith loomed over him, pupils completely blown and nostrils flaring as he took in every scent that Lance was giving out. Who gave rights for Keith to speak so dirtily to him? It was _such a turn on_ and yet there was no way that Keith could have found anything desirable in him having gained weight-

 

“I _love_ how soft you’ve become, full of curves,” At the sharp squeeze at his hips Lance gave a choked cry, Keith’s eyes glinting under the lights, “ _Perfect_ for grabbing when I fuck you hard. I can just imagine your hips _shaking_ ,” another twist had Lance biting on his knuckles, “ _jiggling_ as I squeeze.” Keith growled, fingers pinching into the flesh which had Lance gasping, keening softly.

 

“If you were a woman you would be perfect for breeding,” _Holy quiznak_ Lance thought, shivering as Keith mouthed at his neck, tongue leaving behind a hot wet trail before pausing at his left ear, “Not that it’ll deter me from _filling you up now_.” He purred, laving at the crook of his neck.

 

“K-Keith, d-don’t say su-such things w-when-”

 

“Well you wouldn’t be able to bear my pups anyway.” Keith hummed, speaking easily as if they were simply discussing the weather, “Although…” Keith paused, sliding his hands up past Lance’s taut stomache as he bent to whisper hotly to him, “It would have been nice to see you heavy with milk.”

 

And in that split moment when Lance was reeling from Keith’s words, his lover pounced, index fingers twisting against the other’s nipples which had Lance screeching, throwing his head back from the sensitivity. Crooning in delight at his mate’s positive response, Keith quickly abandoned the growing trail of bruises he was leaving on Lance’s neck, his eyes focusing instead on the soft slowly rising buds on Lance’s chest. Without hesitation, Keith closed his mouth over a peak, tongue twining and tugging, smirking as he heard Lance’s banshee screech taper off into a pleased sensual moan. Massaging gently, Keith quickly turned his attention to the other side, eyes shutting as he imagined Lance, chest swelling from providing milk for his litter of pups, sore and begging for Keith to give him the desperate relief he needed, lactating constantly against his shirt and sobbing for more. Not that it was very far off from the truth as Lance grasped at the sheets, panting and writhing, hands reaching out to weakly grab onto Keith’s shoulders.

 

“Pants.” Lance choked out, “Your clothes too.”

 

Eyes darkening, Keith purred, rubbing his cheek against Lance’s before he sashayed down the other’s body, hands tugging at the pants. Popping the button, Keith slid the zipper down eagerly, only to pause as he his fingers gently traced the outlines of Lance’s hip bones, curving downwards and slowly pulling down the treacherous beige pants. Lance whimpered as he tugged them down his thighs, biting his bottom lip as Keith playfully squeezed, fingers digging into his auburn flesh.

 

“I-If you do that so h-hard, there’s going to be m-marks.” Lance whispered, panting softly as Keith kneaded his flesh, pinching his thighs and making him gasp in surprise.

 

“Maybe if I leave enough you’ll remember this isn’t a one-time thing.” Keith muttered under his breath, ears flicking reproachfully much to Lance’s chagrin. The brunette didn’t have time to voice another complaint however, as Keith quickly slipped off his pants, grabbing his shirt and throwing it onto the floor in and uneven heap. It was Lance’s turn to swallow hard as Keith finally pulled off his own shirt, revealing taut muscles that tapered down into a sharp v at his hips. It made Lance flush, eyes flickering to Keith shyly before he slid his hands up his chiselled body, looking much like an Adonis god, lean and slim.

 

“Enjoying the view?” Keith teased and Lance laughed, some of the tension escaping them. Sighing softly, Lance allowed his hands to map the scars Keith had obviously gained in combat, his fingers resting gently on the long jagged scar that slashed across Keith’s hip and stomache.

 

“Lance…”

 

“You’re beautiful.” Lance mumbled, thumb brushing against the raised flesh, “I want to map constellations on your skin because you…” Keith sighed softly, his eyes, still retaining their yellow glow, softened, and he gave a soft croon, thumb rubbing against Lance’s jawline.

 

“Lance, you’re just as gorgeous. You have no idea how honoured and lucky I am to have you be mine.” Keith smiled, a sweet one that made Lance’s eyes fill with happy tears. Bending forward, Keith pressed a chaste kiss to Lance’s forehead, earning a welcomed sigh of delight from the other boy.

 

“Although,” Keith breathed, and Lance felt a shiver work up his spine as Keith pressed his mouth against his ear, “I _do_ still intend to fuck you senseless.” With a low growl, Keith pushed Lance backwards again, and the blue paladin gave a soft yelp that was quickly cut off as he watched Keith unbuckle his pants, yanking down his boxers. Whimpering, Lance hesitated before bowling Keith back onto his back, eyes darting to the half hard cock pressed against his tummy.

 

“Lance… What are you up to-!!” Keith choked on his words, one mottled purple hand covering his lips as he gave a soft muted groan. Smirking, Lance playfully stroked Keith’s cock, fingers digging gently into the base and earning another flick of Keith’s ears as his half alien boyfriend glared at him reproachfully.

 

Humming, Lance quickly inched his way down Keith’s body, but not before nipping at Keith’s own chest, earning a well-earned thrash from the cat-like boy. Lance was more interested in something else, the way Keith’s cock was big and alarmingly enough purple. This was something that Lance did not remember and after a moment of hesitation, Lance gave his lips another lick before shyly, he enclosed his mouth around the tip. The howl that escaped Keith’s mouth was encouraging enough that Lance brought his lips closer together and sucked, eyelashes fluttering as he looked up at Keith’s face. The boy had a light purple flush to him, and his ears laid back on the top of his head on his black hair, eyes like nightlights in the dark as they zeroed in onto Lance’s face. Feeling bold, Lance allowed himself to take another inch and heard Keith swear.

 

“God.” Keith choked out again, fingers turning momentarily into claws as he shredded some of Lance’s bedding. It might have come across as a bit much since Lance had barely started touching him, but there was something else that made things burn brighter, hotter. Perhaps it was the sight of Lance on his knees, plush lips pressing against his cock, innocent enquiries hummed out in muffled notes around his cock as Lance gave him another lick. Embarrassingly enough, Keith was hard and all he could think of in his head was to have Lance on his knees, presenting, whining and purring. Marking swirls across his skin, printing symbols, canine markings across his neck, hips, chest, arms. Allowing it to be visible for everyone to see, not that the impressive necklace of hickies Lance was sporting could be covered up anyway.

 

“Lance, stop.” Keith managed to utter, pleased that he didn’t stutter as he firmly pushed Lance away. The brunette’s mouth opened, letting Keith’s cock slip away with a soft ‘pop’ before blue baby eyes enraptured Keith’s own. They were nervous and Lance ducked his head, shoulders caving in as he stammered.

 

“W-Was it that bad? It was my first time-”

 

 _Save me_ , Keith thought dazedly as he pounced on Lance, resting heavily on the other boy. He took the moment to admire his body, caramel skin and all before his hand reached down to grasp the other boy’s cock. Lance keened, neck straining as he tilted his head back, whimpering as Keith’s calloused palm stroked him. It made him feel as though he was on fire, a slow overwhelming heat cruising over his body that slowly enveloped him whole. Liquid fire raced through his veins, and Lance sighed, body quivering with strain before a thumb rubbing his entrance had him jerking.

 

“Keith?! We don’t have lube-”

 

“But you’re wet.” Keith purred, tail thrashing in anticipation as he ran his thumb across the soft rim, lifting it so that Lance could see the bead of moisture. Lance gaped in disbelief as a hundred questions ran through his mind, panting softly as Keith continued to stroke him, feeling confused and dazed. It must have shown on his face however, as Keith slowed down, nuzzling his cheek in an affectionate manner.

 

“Galra pheromones, you licked it up while you were performing your _little trick_ on me.” Keith rumbled, crooning as he allowed his index finger to breach the entrance, sliding smoothly. Lance shook, a muted cry exiting his lips as his thighs tensed, shaking with the sudden intake. It felt amazing, albeit Lance knew his first time had been with Keith and had long since forgotten what it was like. But nothing he knew thus far could compare to the slide, tapered fingers massaging his walls, sending heat snaking up his chest and body. Time was something that Lance could no longer fathom, gasping as one finger became two and then three, his eyes closing as his back arched. Stars dotted his vision and he panted, hands reaching out blindly for something before landing on Keith’s shoulders, squeezing tightly.

 

“K-Keith, I, ah! Keith I need, I-!!”

 

“I know.” Keith’s voice was strained and Lance finally opened his eyes, heart thudding in his ribcage at the look of complete adoration on Keith’s face. Even with his feral form, Lance could still recognise the love, the look of adoration written on blazing flint like eyes, glistening white canines and sharp fluffy ears. The initial desire to bend Lance into half and breed him was gone, replaced with a need to savour. To press himself in gently, to take him in the way that would tell the other boy he was his. And that was what Keith precisely did as he lifted Lance’s legs, hands dancing across the slim calves.

 

“I thought you wanted to…” Lance trailed off, looking at Keith wide eyed as the boy stopped him from turning over. At Keith’s wry grin Lance shifted, allowing a soft pillow to be slid under him, bewilderment all over his face.

 

“Keith? You said you wanted to fuck me! Why…”

 

“Changed my mind.” Keith spoke gruffly, looking away as he ran his hands over Lance’s thighs, fingers drawing out circles on Lance’s skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake.

 

“You, you don’t want to fuck me?” Lance voice turned small, and Keith’s eyes widened as the other boy suddenly drew in on himself, shoulders hunching, legs pulling away. Sighing because _what did I tell myself about giving him the wrong impression_ , Keith shook his head, tugging Lance forward before sliding a hand into his hair, tugging downwards so that their lips met. Gone was the hazy need to suck and bite, replaced with the slow drag of lips as Keith ran his tongue at the seam where their lips met. As they pulled away, Lance tilted his head questioningly, eyes unfocused as he blinked at Keith.

 

“I want to _make love_ to you.” Keith corrected softly, and as Lance’s eyes flared with understanding, Keith allowed himself to slide forward, hissing as he entered the soft wet heat of Lance. The brunette moaned, gasping as his back arched, sinews and muscle straining at the sudden fullness he felt. They were soon lost to the heat of things, as Lance’s back hit the pillows, whining into Keith’s mouth with every slow drag of cock in him. Time seemed to still instead of rush forward as most people proclaimed sex would do. Lance could hear every beat of Keith’s heart, thudding as though it was his. Feel the blink and pant of every thrust Keith gave, the soft noises that escaped his own throat. But most importantly, he could feel the intertwine of fingers as Keith’s hands laced his own, grasping on tightly and Lance knew, knew that it would never let go.

 

“K-Keith!”

 

“I know! I know.” Keith snarled, pressing his face into Lance’s neck, biting as he rocked himself further, panting with ever contract and squeeze on his cock.

 

“L-Love you.” Lance breathed out and Keith thought his heart could burst at the words that flew from Lance’s lips.

 

“Love you too _dork_.” Keith panted, body shaking as he felt the base of his cock flare. Lance whined, eyes closing as he grinded encouragingly, undulating below Keith sinfully. Keith wasn’t sure if the brunette was aware of the Galrans mating process, but felt that now wasn’t the time to think of it as instinct drove him to move closer, push harder.

 

“Keith, Keith, K-Keith!” Lance’s voice warbled as he felt something else enter, stretching him impossibly full. The answering growl gave him a roll of strong hips and Lance cried out again as Keith grinded, kissing Lance desperately, tongue hot and heavy. Everything felt as though he was floating and Lance whimpered again as the fullness seemed to grow and _oh it’s a knot, a fucking knot of course why didn’t he even-_

 

“Keith, Keith,” Lance scrambled for words, his own hands almost bruising Keith’s as his hold tightened, “ _Ung!_ I want your, your, _your knot_! _Please!_ ” At his words, Keith snarled, hands snapping down to Lance’s hips, jerking the other forward and grinding down furiously on Lance’s own sweet spot. Lance’s vision whited out and he thought he had never seen anything more beautiful, the delicious curl of heat in his abdomen, the way the stars now shone brighter than those he had seen in space, light flashing before his eyes. The way Keith tensed above him had Lance slowly wincing as he felt the furious push against his prostate.

 

“Baby,” Lance breathed and Keith’s head snapped up, pupils blown, nostrils flaring from the scent of a satisfied mate. His lips pulled over his canines in a snarl, ears flattening on the top of his head as his purple tail thrashed, and Lance still thought no one else was as perfect as Keith.

 

“Come for me darling. Por favor querido,” Lance panted as he tugged at Keith’s mullet, hips rolling forward, “Te necesito. Por favor mi amor, ah,” Lance purred, nuzzling Keith as he whined. In return, Keith gave a soft groan, crooning into Lance’s mouth as his hips jerked in anticipation.

 

“ _Te amo_.” Lance huffed out as Keith came, shoulders shaking as he felt something warm splash into him. Eyes shining, Lance laughed as Keith gave out a low grumble, shifting uncomfortably. Finally giving up on movement, Lance chuckled as Keith collapsed on top of him. Humming gently to himself and basking in the afterglow, Lance ran his fingers through Keith’s hair, untangling the strands that were already starting to matt together. The purple flush was already draining away, and Lance pouted as the ears on Keith’s head began to shrink, the tail also beginning to downsize.

 

“Lance.”

 

At Keith’s soft voice, Lance turned his head, eyes crinkling as he smiled. Keith whined, eyes still amber for the longest period of time since Lance could remember. Butting his head against Lance, Keith pressed a soft butterfly kiss to the side of Lance’s neck, arms sliding around Lance’s waist to pull him close.

 

“Te amo Lance.” Keith mumbled, and Lance thought his heart could burst from the sudden rush of affection he felt for the red paladin. For now, the heavy thoughts that bit at his self-worth were quiet as he settled down against the pillows, Keith sprawled on top of him.

 

“I think I’ll see a counsellor after this.” Lance murmured, stroking Keith’s hair as the half Galran dozed, eyes fluttering open before they closed again.

 

“Whatever the case,” Keith mumbled, his arms tightening around Lance, “I love you. And I’m not going anywhere. Now,” Keith opened one eye, expression tired, “I’m really sleepy so can we-”

 

Lance snorted.

 

“Sleep now pretty boy.” Lance murmured, pressing his nose to Keith’s head, breathing in the scent that he loved so much, “We’re at the bottom of the hourglass that never runs out anyway.”

**Author's Note:**

> TRANSLATIONS:  
> Por favor querido = Please darling.  
> Te necesito = I need you  
> Por favor mi amor = Please my love  
> Te amo = I love you
> 
> Thank you for reading this all the way, and I hope you guys leave a comment below!!~~ (You guys can skip this part below but it's about what inspired me to write this work)
> 
> It took a really long time for me to find some inspiration for Voltron because I had a lot of thoughts on this "mere children's show". I've always gravitated towards Keith and Lance the minute the show came out and the reason why is because I had a situation that was exactly like Klance. I was Lance (if you're curious hehe), and I was hopelessly furious and in love with a Keith. Who I called an ass hole. Anyway, things did not turn out well (for us at least) and I ended up suffering from adjustment disorder due too many problems that came one after another. I was in a really bad place in terms of self esteem and my pining was hurting it till a whole new level.
> 
> While I initially didn't like Lance as a character, I soon realised that it was because he reflected most of my inner fears. Insecurities and the desperate need to pretend that you're the best and that you're confident even though you feel anything but. I'm not saying true love fixes everything and you should find someone like how Lance here has Keith, but it's important to find good emotional support and love. Stability should be given because that's where strength is drawn and you know you are worth fighting for. I hope everyone who reads this takes away the important message of being there for one another, acceptance and respect.
> 
> If you fall, know that someone will always catch you.
> 
> Lots of love <3


End file.
